21 Candles
by Malanna
Summary: Support Stacie Auction Winner Fic. The SVM version of "16 Candles". If you take this seriously, it's time to find your funny bone. AU/OOC.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: 21 Candles

**Author**: Malanna (with a huge assist from Master Beta and Mistress of Snark, Gallathea)

**Support Stacie Auction Winner**: Konfetti and S Meadows.

**Ficlet Challenge**: Write the SVM version of the John Hughes classic film 16 Candles. Warning: major humor and parody ahead! This is definite AU/OOC.

**Musical Inspiration**: 80's new wave, of course!

___________________________________________________________________________

The Stackhouse family home in suburban Shreveport, Louisiana was abuzz with activity. Jason, the eldest son of Corbett and Michelle Stackhouse, was getting married tomorrow, and all manner of relatives were arriving for the occasion. Michelle was tearing through the house like a tornado this morning, doing last minute cleaning, while Corbett tried in vain to stay out of her way and make it to work on time.

However, Sookie Stackhouse, Jason's younger sister, had far more important things than her brother's wedding on her mind. Today was her 21st birthday. She looked at the fake ID she'd been using for the last four years with some affection: Wanda McRackerton (yes, the guy who constructed her alternate identity was a smartass), 30 year-old organ donor from Montana, was retiring today.

Sookie stood staring in her full length mirror, evaluating herself. She was hoping to see some difference, something to say she was a real woman now.

"Nope, I still look exactly the same," she said exasperatedly into the phone, her best friend Amelia on the other end.

Sookie pursed her lips, blowing out a puff of air. There was still one way she she hadn't become an adult yet – she was still a virgin. She'd always had this notion of waiting for the perfect guy, but Mr. Right had yet to show up. To say she was getting frustrated with waiting would be an understatement. She should've bought stock in Duracell for as many batteries as she went through. Worse yet, her brother knew damn well that an envelope from "Open Enterprises" meant a new Good Vibrations catalog, and he teased her about her "mail order boyfriends" constantly.

"Well, what'd you expect, Sookie—a magical tattoo that says 'buy me an Appletini; I'm legal'? Besides, it's not like you don't already have boobs, Miss McRackerton," Amelia laughed.

Sookie flopped on her bed. "I don't know, I was just thinking I should look more mature somehow."

"Maturity is all a state of mind, Sookie. You need to redecorate your room – I hardly think pink walls and frilly lace curtains qualify as an adult woman's style."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Sookie huffed. "Okay, I better get downstairs. My family's probably pissed I haven't let them wish me a happy birthday yet. I'll see you in class."

Sookie hung up the phone, stopping for one last look in the mirror before heading off to her classes at community college.

"You need to get laid and have a kick-ass birthday," she said to herself, taking a deep breath.

Linda, Michelle's sister, was at the bottom of the stairs fighting with her two kids; Hunter, age eleven, and Hadley, age nine.

"Mom, Hunter hit me!" Hadley whined.

"Did not, puke-breath!"

"Did, too!"

Linda grabbed both kids by the arm, keeping them separated. "Cut it out you two, or you're going to miss your cousin's wedding tomorrow!"

"Promise?" Hunter grinned.

Sookie waited on the stairs for the kids to be scuttled out the front door to their school bus. It annoyed her that her Aunt Linda and her cousins always seemed to be here, even though they had their own house just three doors down.

"Michelle?!" Corbett yelled down the hallway. "Where's my briefcase?"

"Right here!" Michelle said as she came into the hall, pulling the briefcase from under the entryway console table.

Sookie smiled at her Dad, waiting expectantly.

"Don't forget," Michelle said as Corbett made for the front door. "The grandparents are coming this afternoon."

"How could I forget?" he asked, clearly not thrilled. "Are we still having dinner with the Norrises tonight?"

"Calvin and Maryelizabeth, yes, at seven o'clock. You better learn their names since they're about to be our in-laws."

Corbett looked over at Sookie, "Do me a favor. When you get married – elope to Vegas. Get married by Elvis or something."

Sookie stared blankly at her Dad, watching him walk out the door without another word.

"Sookie, make sure you come right home after your last class. Your grandparents will be expecting to see you," her mother said.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" Sookie asked incredulously.

Michelle huffed, anxious to get back to cleaning, "What would you like me to say, Sook?"

Sookie narrowed her eyes a bit, "Nothing, nevermind," and stalked out the front door.

Unbelievable, her family had forgotten her birthday!

*~*~*

After spending the afternoon getting her new (of age) driver's license and window shopping, Sookie arrived at Shreveport Community College. She'd signed up mostly for night classes so that she could get a job during the day, which she had yet to actually do. She'd headed to the commons area to stow some things in her locker and meet up with Amelia.

"They actually forgot your birthday? Wow," Amelia said, leaning against the lockers next to Sookie.

"Yep, not one word."

"Why don't you remind them?"

"No way. They're all too busy obsessing over Jason's wedding," Sookie grumbled. "Besides, I'm practically invisible to most people anyway, why should my family be any different?"

"Well, I'd stow it away for future use. That's some major guilt ammunition to finally get a car," stated Amelia.

Sookie shut her locker, and the two headed down the hall toward class. "I wasn't expecting a car or anything, but I mean, it's my 21st birthday for christ's sake – I should be having some really killer party or something. They could've at least wished me a happy birthday."

"Well, maybe you'll find some hot guy at the dance tonight," Amelia said, sliding into her desk behind Sookie.

"I don't even know if I'm going. A sorority sponsored dance is not exactly my idea of a great birthday. Plus, my grandparents are coming into town."

"Aw, Sook, c'mon. Try, at least. It's better than sitting home sulking."

Before Sookie could respond the professor was walking in, and Sookie dug out her economics book from her bag. She tried for a few minutes to pay attention to the lecture, but couldn't keep her mind off what a crappy birthday this was so far. As the class droned on, Sookie felt Amelia poking at her side, handing her a note.

Sookie opened it, furrowing her brow that she was still doing things as juvenile as passing notes in class. She grew even more annoyed when she realized what she was looking at. It was some sort of sex quiz. Oh well, at least it was a distraction.

She went through the first few, writing down her answers, but paused as she came to a particularly interesting set.

5. _Have you ever done it with a Vampire?_

Sookie had been intrigued by the vamps ever since they'd come out of the proverbial closet a few years back; she had chosen to schedule most of her classes at night with the faint hope of meeting one. She'd even done a little poking around on the Internet to see what she could find, and after being assaulted by an endless barrage of pop-up windows, she found video confirmation of some of the discussions she'd overheard: vampires had stamina. Hooboy, did they have stamina. And they could do this thing with their fingers, and... Sookie felt herself beginning to flush red. Time to answer the question and move on.

She penned in her negative answer and read the next question.

6. _If your answer was no, would you, given the chance? _

Heck yeah she would! She'd heard from several girls at school that sex with vampires was incredible. She wrote down a simple 'I guess so,' though, not wanting to seem overly eager.

7. _If yes, what Vampire would you do it with?_

Sookie tapped her pen repeatedly against her lower lip. She knew exactly who she would pick. In fact, he was sitting in the next row of desks, a couple seats back.

She casually turned her head to peek back that way, staring at the incredibly gorgeous vampire. He must've been at least six and a half feet tall, with gorgeous, long blond hair, and the most amazing blue eyes Sookie had ever seen. She had no idea how old he was, but from his looks and muscular frame, she could imagine him having been a Viking warrior.

To her horror, he turned his head and caught her staring, probably with a dazed and dreamy look. She made some pathetic attempt to look like she was scratching her chin against her shoulder and quickly turned back around. She felt like such a loser, sometimes.

Sookie stared back at the paper, taking a deep breath, and finally wrote down her answer.

_Eric Northman._

She grinned to herself. Wouldn't he be the perfect guy to make a woman out of her. It'd be even better if it happened on her birthday – that would make up for all the other things that had happened today.

8. _Does the Vampire know you would do them?_

Oh yeah, that wouldn't be embarrassing or anything. She could just walk up to him and say, "Hi, I'm a human and a virgin, but I'd love to lose it to you." Sookie shivered at the mere thought and penned 'NO!!!' - underlining it several times.

She finished the quiz and folded the note back up. Pretending to stretch and yawn, she held her hands up over and behind her head, dropping the note back to Amelia.

Eric had been watching Sookie since he caught her looking at him. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her staring, and he found himself intrigued by the blond human. There was something about the way she looked at him...

As she tried to drop a folded piece of paper on the desk behind her, Eric watched it miss its target, landing on the floor. He peeked at the girl seated behind Sookie to see if she noticed it fall, but her head was buried in a magazine. Eric leaned forward a bit in his desk, snagging the note with his foot and sliding it toward him. He reached to pick it up and quickly tucked it inside his econ book, intending to read it after class. He was too curious about that girl to pass up the opportunity.

*~*~*

"What do you mean, you don't have it?!" Sookie asked in a panic. She and Amelia were leaving their economics class.

"I swear I didn't get it," Amelia said apologetically.

Sookie threw her hands up. "Great, just great."

"What's the big deal? You didn't put your name on it, did you?"

"No, but there was something really embarrassing in there, and I don't want it floating around for just anyone to find!"

"Why? What'd you put?"

"That I'd do it with a vampire," Sookie said, turning beet red.

"You didn't! Who?"

Sookie glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then said in a low voice, "Eric Northman."

"No way!" Amelia exclaimed. "Eric Northman? He doesn't even know you're alive."

"I know, but it's supposed to be like my ideal," Sookie huffed.

"Well, yeah, but still. Besides, he's dating Pamela Ravenscroft. No way can you compete with her."

"I know," Sookie sighed. "She's so damned perfect and beautiful you just want to hate her."

"Yeah, but you can't, cause she's actually nice. I heard she even organized some big blood drive for the Katrina relief efforts, _and_ she volunteers at the hospital to help recent amputee victims learn to walk again," Amelia said, sounding totally impressed.

"There's got to be something wrong with her. Maybe she's a closet lesbian or something," Sookie laughed.

"Well, she is kind of shallow in some ways – at least, that's what you'd gather from her shopping obsession. I bet she's spent a fortune on all those twin sets and Manolo Blahniks," Amelia snickered. "Still though, you might as well keep dreaming, Sook."

"Well, I will. It's all I've got right now," Sookie lamented.

The two girls chatted a bit more before parting ways, and Sookie promised Amelia she'd try to make it to the dance tonight. Amelia encouraged her by saying Eric would probably be there, making Sookie roll her eyes, but secretly feel an excited shiver at the thought. As she headed for the city bus stop, Sookie couldn't help but imagine the possibilities. In person, she wouldn't have to deal with the pop-up windows.

Eric was also wondering about Sookie later that day when he went to meet his friend Clancy at the gym. The two often practiced sparring after classes. Eric had been very surprised when he read Sookie's quiz, and he couldn't seem to stop thinking about it.

"Hey Clancy," Eric said as they were warming up (why vampires needed to warm up, Eric had no idea, but Clancy always insisted on it.)

"Huh?"

"Do you know Sookie Stackhouse?"

Clancy thought for a moment, stretching. "That blond girl from econ?"

"Yeah," Eric said, removing his wooden practice sword from the bag.

"What about her?"

Eric began to practice his forms, keeping his voice casual. "What do you think of her?"

"I don't," Clancy said with a dismissive tone.

"Come on, seriously."

Clancy eyed Eric, "I dunno... she seems weird, always going around with that bizarre smile stuck on her face."

"I think she's pretty," Eric shrugged. "She's always looking at me... different from how other girls look at me. Almost like she's in love with me or something." After a moment of awkward silence, he added, "And she smells damn good."

"She smells like virgin," Clancy smirked. "What do you care, anyway? You've got Pamela. That chick is hot, and she's gotta be a tiger in the sack."

Eric rolled his eyes at the young vampire. "Maybe I'm looking for more than just a good fuck."

"Like what?" Clancy stared at him blankly.

Eric sighed, "Nevermind."

"Whatever, man."

The two sparred for awhile, but Eric couldn't concentrate. He wasn't particularly looking forward to the dance tonight, having grown bored with the same old partying and fucking. He was seriously considering breaking up with Pam, and with what he'd learned about Sookie, that idea was looking more and more appealing. He wondered if Sookie would be at the dance...

... maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad.

**TBC**

___________________________________________________________________________

A/N: This fic was written as part of the Support Stacie auction, in which fanfic authors offered stories written to the winning bidder's personal specifications. The auction raised over $25,000 in total to help support a fellow author battling cancer. To learn more about this cause and about future auctions, please visit:

supportstacie (DOT) net

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from the Southern Vampire Mysteries – they belong solely to Charlaine Harris. No infringement is intended.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: 21 Candles

**Author**: Malanna (with a huge assist from Master Beta and Mistress of Snark, Gallathea - seriously, this would not be half as funny without her!)

**Support Stacie Auction Winner**: Konfetti and S. Meadows

**Ficlet Challenge**: Write the SVM version of the John Hughes classic film 16 Candles. Warning: major humor and parody ahead! This is definite AU/OOC.

**Musical Inspiration**: 80's new wave, of course!

___________________________________________________________________________

Sookie hated taking public transportation. At this time of night the Shreveport buses mostly carried fellow college commuters, but there was also the array of odd (and some mentally unstable) passengers who rode the bus for lack of anything better to do. As she found a seat behind two college students wearing jock straps on their heads, Amelia's prompting to guilt her parents into getting her a car was looking like a better idea.

For the first part of the bus ride Sookie tried to avoid looking at jock-strap-heads and weird neck-brace girl sitting across from her, keeping her eyes focused out the window. She wondered what god she'd angered to have her birthday forgotten, the vampire she obsessed over not even know she was alive (shouldn't he at least want to drain her?), and to still be stuck riding the bus from hell. She had daydreamed about having her own vehicle - maybe a little red convertible sports car that could corner like it was on rails as she let the road lead her, blowing through yield signs - but that was a fantasy. Reality was about to get even worse.

Vampire Bill, known around campus only as 'The Geek' (TG for short,) had slid into the seat with Sookie and was leaning into her like a social reject at a singles bar. You know the type – thinks he's a suave Romeo, but is more like the kid on the playground who thinks no one notices him picking his nose. A true computer geek, he was wearing a button-up shirt, Dockers, and a henley tied around his waist – the only thing missing was the pocket protector.

"Hey, hot stuff. What do you say we test the tensile strength of these seat springs?" he breathed into Sookie's ear.

Sookie rolled her eyes, trying to ignore him as she stared out the window. The Geek was proof that even vampires didn't always fit into a stereotype.

"You going to the dance tonight?" he pressed, crowding further into her personal space.

Sookie turned and glared at him, "That's none of your business."

"You got a guy? Cause, I mean, I could rock your world," Bill continued, oblivious to Sookie's disgust. "Or I could just glamour you and make you think I rocked your world, and then you'd be all up on my jock for real."

"I have several guys," she spat, "And they would beat you up for even trying to mind fuck me."

TG held his hands up in a defensive posture, leaning back slightly. "Geez, so hostile!" his voice cracked with feigned indignation. He paused a moment, then inclined his head toward her, attempting to smolder. "Am I turning you on? I am, right?" he grinned.

"I don't know who turned you, geek, but your maker obviously skipped the 'vampire seduction' lessons. Stay away from my arteries!" Thankfully the bus pulled up to her stop at that moment, and Sookie quickly extricated herself from the seat, ignoring him as she blew past.

The Geek watched her exit the bus, still grinning. He turned to the neck-brace girl, trying to sound confident, "That was encouraging, I think."

She raised an eyebrow, the vampire oblivious to the sarcasm in her voice, "Uh... yeah."

*~*~*

Sookie tensed, stopping dead in her tracks on the stairs to her third floor bedroom, the sound of familiar voices coming from above. Peering through the banister slats she spotted two pairs of cellulite and varicose vein-ridden legs. Oh hell... the grandparents. She turned, trying to quietly tiptoe back down before they could spot her.

"Sookums!" she heard Mitchell, her paternal Grandfather, call down after her.

Her luck was just refusing to change today. She plastered a smile on her face and steeled herself, heading back up the stairs.

"Hi, Grandpa and Grandma," she forced with as pleasant a tone as she could muster.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" her Grandmother Adele, who had been unpacking her Hummel fairy figurines that she strangely refused to travel without, crooned as she embraced her.

"It's good to see you, too," Sookie replied, stiffly hugging each of them in return. "So, you guys are staying up here?" she asked.

Mitchell nodded and groaned, "Yes, yes, it's murder on my sciatica climbing all those stairs, though."

Sookie tried to appear empathetic, but huffed internally that she had to give up her room. One more thing to add to the 'Why Sookie's Birthday Sucks' list. Surely her grandparents would remember her birthday at least – they live for that shit!

"So, do I look any different today?" she hinted to them.

Adele looked at her curiously, "Nope, still our little Sookums! Why?"

"Nothing," Sookie sighed, defeated. "I had better go get settled in the guest room."

"We're looking forward to a long talk with you later!" Mitchell called after her as she went back down the stairs. Once Sookie was out of earshot he turned to Adele, "That girl just doesn't appreciate us."

"Mmhmm," Adele agreed. "Kids have no respect anymore."

As Sookie rounded the corner on the second floor, Lady Luck once again mocked her. Ethel, her maternal Grandmother, came out of one of the two guest rooms at that exact moment. Sookie cringed.

"Oh, Sookie!" Ethel squealed.

"Hi, Grandma," Sookie said exasperatedly, plastering her smile on once again.

"Well, just look at you!"

"How are you, Grandma?" she asked, trying to sound like she cared.

"Oh well, excited about your brother's wedding, of course," she replied, then lowered her voice in a secretive gossiping manner. "Is it true what I'm hearing about his fiancé, though?"

Before Sookie could respond, her Grandfather, Henry, emerged from the bathroom.

"There's my little Sookie!" he grinned, hugging her.

"Hi, Grandpa," she said, anticipating the inevitable follow-up.

"Knock knock!" Henry began the joke.

Sookie continued her fake smile, "Who's there?"

"Ivan."

"Ivan, who?"

"Ivan to suck your blood!" he quipped, and then began to tickle her as he laughed.

_Great. Now there's even vampire knock-knock jokes._

"Henry, stop that," Ethel admonished. "You'll make her tinkle."

Sookie wasn't sure whether to scoff at her Grandma or thank her for stopping the disturbing tickling.

"Oh, look, Henry," Ethel whispered to him. "Her boobies have gotten bigger!"

As if the tickling wasn't disturbing enough, Sookie stared in horror as her Grandma's hands descended upon her breasts, squeezing them. _Oh god, stop this punishment and just kill me now... I'll never complain again!_ Sookie quickly made an excuse about homework and ducked into the other guest room, shutting the door and leaning back against it with a sigh of relief.

"I can't believe my Grandma felt me up," she muttered to herself, flopping on the bottom bunk bed (this was the guest room most used by Hunter and Hadley.)

Just as Sookie was beginning to settle down from the family onslaught, a face suddenly appeared, hanging down from the top bunk.

"What's happenin', Cher?" the top bunk occupant sort of growled.

Sookie shrieked, startled at the strange, coppery-headed man. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, along with a scruffy face, and his eyes were wild. She scrambled off the bed, diving for the bedroom door, and running down to the kitchen.

Sookie's mother was busy at the stove, and her cousin Hunter was seated at the kitchen table.

"I don't mean to alarm anyone," Sookie said, "But there's a strange, shaggy man in the spare room."

Michelle looked pointedly at Sookie. "That's Lam Dog Sam; he's an exchange student staying with your Grandma and Grandpa Stackhouse. Apparently he was orphaned in Vietnam and raised by a pack of wolves," she said as though this was an everyday occurrence.

"Well, where's he staying?" Sookie asked.

"In my room," Hunter chimed in, never failing to claim ownership of the spare room. "He had better be house-broken."

Sookie sighed, "Well then, where am I staying?"

"Sofa city, sweetheart," Hunter grinned.

_Of course, because Linda and her kids certainly couldn't sleep at their own damn house._

"Sookie, can you remember to turn the oven off in half an hour? Your Father and I have dinner with the Norrises tonight," Michelle said.

"I can remember _lots_ of things," Sookie huffed. "Mom, is there any reason I should stay home tonight?"

"Well, Sookie, it would be nice if you spent some time with your Grandparents this evening."

"It's just that there's this dance on campus tonight," Sookie explained, now happy for any reason to get out of the house.

"Alright, but you have dinner with the family first," Michelle replied absently. "Speaking of which, go tell your brother to hurry up or we'll be late to the club."

Sookie didn't dare push her luck any further, and quickly headed back up the stairs, Hunter having followed behind her. As she turned the corner, Sookie couldn't help the urge to stick her tongue out at her cousin.

"What's _your_ problem?" Hunter asked.

Sookie narrowed her eyes. "It's my birthday, and not one of you has said a word!" she huffed, finally letting out her frustration.

"Everyone forgot your birthday? Classic!" he laughed, walking away from her.

Sookie flung the door open to Jason's room, not bothering to knock, and flopped down on his bed. Jason was standing at his dresser mirror, trying to knot his tie.

"Do you think Grandpa Henry is going to embarrass me tomorrow?" Jason asked, ignoring Sookie's dramatics.

"Doesn't he always?"

Jason sighed, "He already asked me if Crystal is your garden-variety trailer trash."

"Is she?"

"Don't be a brat," Jason scolded. "She's so amazing, Sookie – beautiful, smart, and such a great cook."

Sookie bit her lower lip, watching Jason primp. "I suppose it wouldn't be so bad to watch NASCAR and eat pork rinds with someone you really love. I'm in love, too... I think."

Jason turned to look at his younger sister. "So? What's the problem?"

"I don't think he knows I exist."

"Ugh, Sook," Jason rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this."

"Well, _excuse_ me," Sookie spat.

Jason crossed the room, sitting on the bed with her. "Sookie, you're being a real bitch. You know what I think your problem is?"

She stared at him.

"I think you're jealous that I'm getting all the attention," he said with a firm tone. "I think you're being selfish and immature."

Sookie narrowed her eyes, "Yeah... that's it. I'm not the one pretending to like Kenny Chesney just so my bride won't leave me at the altar, oh brother of mine. I could always object during the ceremony and tell Crystal what you _really_ think of Garth Brooks." She blew out a puff of air, climbing off the bed and heading for the door, turning for a moment before leaving. "Mom says to hurry up or you'll be late for dinner."

*~*~*

An hour later Sookie was seated at the dinner table with her grandparents, aunt, and cousins. Seated at the head of the table was Lam Dog Sam, the strange, shaggy man. He was holding his plate up to his nose, sniffing curiously at his dinner.

"Very interesting," he said with his Asian-accented, growly voice. "Meal wrapped up in round pie."

"It's a quiche," Hunter laughed.

"Quiche?" Lam Dog Sam asked. "How do you spell it?"

"Well, you don't spell it," Mitchell chuckled. "You eat it!"

"Sookie, you and Dog are about the same age," Adele announced.

Sookie tried to smile. "That's great, Grandma."

"I like living with Grandma and Grandpa Stackhouse," the shaggy man said. "Grandpa lets me push lawn mowing machine so his hyena does not bother him."

"Hernia!" Hunter laughed, correcting him.

"Where hyena? Hyena here?" Dog asked, confused.

"Oh yes," Adele continued, "Dog is very helpful to us around the house. He's just great!"

Lam Dog Sam smiled weakly, examining his fork as though he had no idea what to do with it. Sookie wondered if he might just dive his face into the quiche, and decided to try and get out of there as quickly as possible.

"May I be excused? I have a dance to go to."

"A dance?" Ethel asked.

"Uh... yeah. It's for gym. We're being graded."

"I have a wonderful idea!" Adele chimed back in. "Dog? Would you like to go to the dance with Sookie?"

Sookie's jaw dropped in horror.

_Great, just great. Could this birthday possibly get any worse?_

**TBC**

___________________________________________________________________________

A/N: This ficlet was written as part of the Support Stacie auction, in which fanfic authors offered stories written to the winning bidder's personal specifications. The auction raised over $25,000 in total to help support a fellow author battling cancer. To learn more about this cause and about future auctions, please visit:

supportstacie (DOT) net

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from the Southern Vampire Mysteries – they belong solely to Charlaine Harris. No infringement is intended.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: 21 Candles

**Author**: Malanna (with a huge assist from Master Beta and Mistress of Snark, Gallathea)

**Support Stacie Auction Winner**: Konfetti and S. Meadows

**Ficlet Challenge**: Write the SVM version of the John Hughes classic film 16 Candles. Warning: major humor and parody ahead! This is definite AU/OOC.

**Musical Inspiration**: 80's new wave, of course!

___________________________________________________________________________

Sookie tugged at her grey, cut-off neck sweatshirt, making sure it hung far down her shoulder. She'd always loved the movie _Flashdance_, so had gone full-out for the 80's themed dance, legwarmers and all. Her curling iron had gotten the workout of the century to create the perfect Jersey mall bangs and teased out side wings. Amelia had opted for the Madonna look, covered in a white lace corset dress, gloves, and a penciled on mole. Sookie thought Amelia looked a little more "Papa Don't Preach" than "Like a Virgin," but hey, we all had a healthy respect for the Boy Toy's oeuvre.

As they entered the commons of the student union, Sookie began scanning through the crepe paper, balloons and hanging stars (the dance organizer must be a _Footloose_ fan.) She was hoping, of course, to catch sight of the vampire object of her affection. The thought of the tall blond in Bender-Breakfast-Club leather and jeans made her wish she'd worn lighter clothing, suddenly feeling far too warm.

Lined up along the wall, all clad in Devo gear, complete with red flower pot hats, was the geek squad – led by none other than Vampire Bill. Bud and Andy, his two sidekicks, were testing their latest attempt at X-Ray glasses. As Andy looked around with the ridiculous red goggles, he spotted Amelia and Sookie come through the doors.

"Whoa, major babe alert at two o'clock," Andy said.

Bud chimed in, "Bet that blond looks Springer-worthy in a pair of Daisy Dukes."

Bill, as self-appointed leader of the geek squad, admonished Andy. "Be cool, Bellefleur. And take off those ridiculous goggles."

"What's not cool about night vision?" Andy asked.

"It's cool if you've got it naturally, Andy. Like me. My vision is so good that I can practically see that girl's nipples through her shirt."

"Everyone can see her nipples, Compton."

"Be polite, man," Bill said. "I happen to have a relationship with that woman."

"Spanking it to her yearbook picture doesn't qualify as a relationship," Bud snickered.

"Seriously, she and I have connected on a deep level."

Bud and Andy looked at each other, then to Bill. "Prove it."

"You don't believe me?" Bill croaked in an offended tone. "I'll bet you I bag that babe tonight."

"A forty pack of DVD-Roms," Andy said confidently. "For burning all your porn to a portable format in style."

Bill gulped, but tried to remain cool.

"And you have to have proof," Bud added.

"What kind of proof?"

"Panties," the two answered in unison, then added after a moment, "Girl's panties."

Bill scoffed at the two, knowing the perfect way to accomplish this.

"And not Lorena's. She'll drop her panties for any sad sack."

Well, there went that plan, but Bill acted offended by the notion he would cheat. He took a moment to check out his sideburns in a pocket mirror--yup, still smooth--and zipped across the dance floor with vampire speed.

Sookie shifted her weight back and forth on her feet, sighing as she spotted Eric slow dancing with Pam. Her Bender fantasy had been trumped – the couple had perfect Baby and Jonny _Dirty Dancing_ outfits. Sookie had fleeting thoughts of pelting Pam with a watermelon. But how could she compete, really? That was one Baby nobody would put in a corner.

But then the unthinkable happened. Eric's wandering gaze landed on Sookie as she was staring straight at him. And he... smiled at her! Being the smooth operator she was, Sookie clammed up like a special kid in a MENSA meeting, and quickly turned away.

Just when Sookie thought things couldn't get any more embarrassing, she had turned to smack straight into The Geek. He eyed her sweatshirt appreciatively and started jogging in place in front of her. "Sookie, you're a maniac, a maniac on the floor."

Sookie just stared at The Geek, watching his Devo hat bop around with his gyrations.

"Hot, right? You want this? Want me to whip it?" he waggled his eyebrows.

The Guinness people would surely record this as the worst birthday in history, Sookie thought. She considered stuffing her silver bangles in The Geek's mouth to shut him up, but when he began pelvic thrusting at her, she'd had enough and bolted for the hallway.

Sookie leaned against the wall outside the commons and slowly sank to the ground. Her family had forgotten her birthday, she'd frozen up in front of the hottest vampire in Louisiana, and a Civil War vet had made it clear he'd like to "bayonet" her.

Bill, so absorbed in the seductive show he was putting on, didn't realize she'd left until a particularly hard thrust made him lose his balance, and he stumbled forward. Bud and Andy had been watching the scene, and were doubled over laughing as Bill attempted to recover, smoothing his hair back. He sauntered back over to them, "I'm too much for her; she felt faint."

"I can see that, Electric Boogaloo," Bud mocked.

While most of the dancers on the floor were occupied with "The Electric Slide," the exchange student, Dog, was dancing with his muzzle conspicuously occupied in the ample bosom of none other than Debbie Pelt, who he considered one fox of a woman.

Sam spoke to Debbie, his voice slightly muffled by his mouth's proximity to her chest. "I bet every man on campus chases you," he said appreciatively.

"They do," she replied. "But I'm speedy like Carl Lewis, and nobody's been able to catch me yet. I run the 400 meters in 57 seconds flat."

"Flat?" Dog murmured, dazed by the bounty in front of his face.

While Pam went with her gaggle of hens to the bathroom, Eric decided to approach the kid he'd seen talking with Sookie.

"That girl you were dancing with earlier... are you... very attached to her?"

Bill, who instinctively bared fang, took up a defensive posture. "No, no, man. I didn't know she was yours."

"Calm down, fledgling, she's not mine. I'm just curious about her."

"Have you smelled her, man? I don't know what she's got in her blood, but it's eau-de-somethin'," Bill replied, licking a fang.

"Did she come here with you?" Eric asked.

"Nah, man, but if it's cool with my nestmates, she's comin' home with me," Bill said, attempting a suave toss of his head.

Eric cocked a brow at the younger vampire, wondering what Sookie could possibly see in him. Maybe she was just a common fangbanger, after all.

Meanwhile, back in the hallway, Sookie was doing her best impression of a leaky faucet in a classic angst-ridden breakdown. Because the fates were conspiring to make this the worst day ever, her pity-party was interrupted when Pam and her friends walked past her.

"Hey," Pam said, indifferently.

"Hey," Sookie stammered, trying to hide the tears running down her face. "Visine, you know. Gets the red out. Used too much."

She was rambling now. Shit. Pam just stared at her for a second and kept walking. Sookie took a deep breath once they'd vanished down the hall, steeling her nerves, (what the hell does that mean, anyway? Sending your nerves to a metal refinery?) and headed back into the dance. She spotted Amelia on the bleachers next to a stoner named Tray they liked to hang out with, and sat down in front of them.

Any hopes of reprieve Sookie had quickly vanished, as Bill, who had an uncanny sense of timing, slid into the bleachers next to her just as the DJ started playing "Push It." The Geek attempted to lounge casually next to her, but his elbows missed the bleacher behind him and sent his Devo hat falling onto Amelia's lap. Bill went for another hair smooth, trying to make the faux-pas look intentional, and leaned over toward Sookie.

"Ah ah, push it..." he breathed at her.

Tray grabbed the hat from Amelia's lap and chucked it at Bill's head. "Get the hell outta here, geek."

"We rescind your invitation to our section of the bleachers," Amelia added.

Bill ignored the comments behind him, bopping his head along with the music. "So, I was thinking," Bill said, trying to remain cool by just looking around the room. "Maybe you and I could, y'know... head back to my nest, and I dunno... we could play some Wii golf for awhile... and then maybe listen to some Tibetan drums... maybe check out my big bathtub..."

He had finally turned his head to look at Sookie, about to tack on a final suggestive comment about being his True Blood replacement, when he realized the seat next to him was empty.

"Didn't pick up on the fact that she was leaving even with your vampire hearing, eh Geek?" Amelia snorted.

Sookie had fled the commons once again, well past her breaking point, and found herself in the auto shop, seated in the driver's seat of a broken down Chevy Malibu. She caressed the dashboard wistfully, feeling a certain affection for the vehicle despite its obvious status as an utter piece of crap. "So much for yielding my first time on my birthday," she huffed.

Bill, who had ran off after her, hovered in the doorway watching. He had to win that bet! He leaned against a nearby shelf to ponder his next move, but it buckled beneath his super strength, sending hubcaps flying across the floor. Valentino he was not.

Sookie, startled by the noise, whipped her head around, but was too depressed at this point to throw a tantrum. She sat picking at the dashboard as Bill tried to silently glide toward the car, but tripped over at least two hubcaps on the way. He also hadn't grasped the concept of car door locks, opting instead to rip it from the frame when it refused to open.

"You could have just asked me to open it," Sookie said, shaking her head.

"Isn't it more impressive this way?" The Geek returned.

Bill slid into the passenger seat, and took Sookie's lack of protest as an invitation, swooping in toward her neck.

"Back off, Buster!" Sookie screeched, pounding on his chest. "Do I have to be a bitch to you constantly for you to get the idea that I don't want to walk around with your bite marks?"

"Sorry, sorry," Bill held his hands up in surrender. "Someone spiked the TB fountain with AB negative," he said, screwing up his face.

"This day has been shitty enough without adding bloodlust into the mix."

"Why, what happened today?" Bill asked.

"It's my birthday. You guys probably don't care much about birthdays, huh? I mean, you probably stop counting somewhere after a hundred."

The proverbial lightbulb went on over Bill's head, and he began drumming on the dashboard, singing, "You say it's your birthday, nah nah nah nah nah nah..."

Sookie thwacked Bill's arm, "Cut it out."

"I saw the Beatles myself in Liverpool," Bill mentioned with pride.

"Too bad you didn't stay there," Sookie snorted. Looking over at the dejected Bill, she actually began to feel bad. "I'm sorry, it's just been a shitty birthday."

"How come?"

"My whole family forgot. No one even said happy birthday to me. I'm 21 today. I'm supposed to be out doing body shots until I can't even see anymore, right? Right?"

"I've heard that is the human custom to get... what do you call it... proper shitfaced?"

"Well, I'm not even improperly shitfaced."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you an embarrassing story? I wasn't always the cool dude you see now."

Sookie eyed him, "Okay, but I don't want to hear about any gay vampire-fairy sex."

Bill's eyes glazed slightly at the mere thought of a fairy, gay or no.

Bill took a deep breath (he's got that mainstreaming thing down) and mumbled, "I'veneverglamouredagirl."

Sookie arched a brow, "Pardon?"

He cleared his throat, speaking more clearly. "I've never glamoured a girl. My maker kept me on a pretty short leash."

Sookie stifled a laugh. "Well, I think that's okay. Glamouring is wrong, anyway."

"Tell that to my nestmates."

Bill concentrated on Sookie's face as he sent waves of power towards her, hoping she would be his first. He leaned in for a kiss, sure he had finally entered her mind, and Sookie recoiled.

"Uh, Bill? That didn't work."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Nope, sorry. Don't feel bad, though... I'm sort of saving myself for someone."

"Let me guess," Bill groaned. "LeStat."

"Do I look like a reality-challenged emo girl to you?" Sookie spat.

"No, but I do have this urge to douse you in water."

"I guess that's better than being covered in staked-vampire guck," Sookie mused. "Anyway, I was kind of hoping that the first time I get bitten, it would be with Eric--you know, big guy, Viking?"

"Seriously? Eric and I go way back! Eric's my boy! I mean, I'm sort of his boy. Great guy. Good with a sword. And I hear he's incredible in bed."

Sookie looked at Bill as if he'd gone nuts. What kind of vampire SAYS shit like that?

"Eric was asking me about you earlier, actually."

"He did not, you liar!" Sookie thwacked Bill again.

"Geez, so violent! He did, too!" Bill rubbed the arm Sookie had just punched, pretending it had hurt. Gotta stroke a girl's ego. "He asked if I was attached to you and said you smelled good. It's a vampire thing."

"Oh my god, what should I do? Should I go up to him and put my hair under his nose? Should I wait for him to come to me?"

"Hey, if you like the guy, I say just go for it. Take your passion and make it happen, doll."

"What a feeling! Eric Northman is into me!"

Sookie felt almost like doing a little breakdance right there in the autoshop. Almost. Instead, she leaned over and kissed Bill's cheek, then hopped out of the car.

"Hey Sookie?" Bill asked quickly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know anything about high capacity portable storage mediums?"

"Like computer stuff? Not really. I just surf the Internet and do my homework."

"Oh. Well, these rewritable DVD-ROMs are really expensive, and I'm going through a ton of them for this database thing I'm putting together for my stats class, and..."

"And?" Sookie asked, impatient to go find herself a Viking.

"... and I sorta made a bet with the guys and can I please have your underwear?"

*~*~*

Back in the commons, Eric and Pam were once again sharing a slow dance.

"Eric, let's just get out of here and go over to your place. I told a few of the girls from the Fangtasia dance team to come over," Pam cooed. "I've even brought in a bunch of willing donors."

"Yeah, vapid cheerleaders and donors who are going to get trashed and have blood that tastes like Peach Schnapps," Eric retorted.

"What's your problem, Eric? Did you catch Long Shadow copying your econ homework again?"

Eric ignored her, looking around to see if Sookie had come back.

"Eric? Eric!" Pam spat. "You've been acting different. Is it someone else? You can't possibly be crazy enough to cheat on me, can you?"

"Of course I'm not cheating on you, don't be ridiculous."

"Well," Pam said. "Don't forget there's at least twenty other vamps who'd love to get a taste of me. They don't call me the 'best O Negative in the parish' for nothing, and you know it."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a cold, hard fact. Colder than a Twilight vamp's pectorals." Pam sighed, "Let's just go before we draw swords."

Out in the hallway, Sookie was pacing back and forth, trying to figure out her best approach. She ran through a few ideas out loud.

"Hey Eric, smelled anything good lately?"

"Is that a dagger in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Hi Eric. I've brought take-out!" Sookie imagined herself in a giant carton with Chinese lettering.

Finally she tried, in a seductive voice, "Hey Eric... I had this dream about you and my shower..." and nodded her head in self-approval.

Sookie strode confidently toward the locker area where people had piled their coats, ready for 'Operation: Get Some.'

Eric, of course, picked this exact moment to stride in to pick up Pam's coat, and he smiled as he caught sight of Sookie. "Hi," he said in a friendly tone.

Sookie, unfortunately, froze up like a deer in front of headlights and made a sound that approximated, "Guh... er... su... ugh!"

Eric shook his head in confusion as she turned and fled, wondering if she really was crazy. He shrugged and left with Pam, who was already cracking jokes about whether or not Eric would be up for "doing the lift" tonight in his Jonny costume.

Meanwhile, a Geek had bagged himself a pair of panties, and word was traveling fast. This thong was going to be worth the price of admission. Bud and Andy were working that bathroom door like bouncers at Studio 54, collecting twenty bucks from every eager dork on campus, which they then delivered to the King of the Geeks.

Bill perched himself atop the urinal, grateful that when he was out of the presence of Sookie Stackhouse, his supernatural agility allowed him to avoid any mishaps. He stuffed the wad of newly-collected cash into the back pocket of his Dockers and slowly drew out Sookie's donated lingerie.

"Behold," he announced with an air of drama. "This pair of panties you see before you appeared as a whale tail just earlier this evening above the low-slung jeans of none other than Sookie Stackhouse."

A collective gasp ran through the crowd that had assembled. "Whale tail," somebody murmured. They were spellbound.

Bill grinned in triumph, realizing this thong could be more than just a crowd pleaser. This could be the ticket he needed to get into the after-party!

**TBC**

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A/N: This ficlet was written as part of the Support Stacie auction, in which fanfic authors offered stories written to the winning bidder's personal specifications. The auction raised over $25,000 in total to help support a fellow author battling cancer. To learn more about this cause and about future auctions, please visit:

supportstacie (DOT) net

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from the Southern Vampire Mysteries – they belong solely to Charlaine Harris. No infringement is intended.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: 21 Candles

**Author**: Malanna (with a huge assist from Master Beta and Mistress of Snark, Gallathea)

**Support Stacie Auction Winner**: Konfetti and S. Meadows

**Ficlet Challenge**: Write the SVM version of the John Hughes classic film 16 Candles. Warning: major humor and parody ahead! This is definite AU/OOC.

**Musical Inspiration**: 80's new wave, of course!

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Lam Dog Sam had apparently earned enough respect from Sookie's grandparents to merit the all-important status of "trusted car borrower." He and his foxy new girlfriend, Debbie Pelt, dropped Sookie off at home and quickly made their way to what they'd heard would be the hottest after-party in town. Even though Eric's driveway was packed, Dog expertly wedged the front tires of Grandpa's Caddy atop the hood of another car.

Inside the party was in full swing, Eric's nest already suffering the ill effects of blood lusty vampires and drunken frat boys. The floor already had that sticky quality that unrestrained group debauchery lends to even the most expensive decor. Eric wandered from room to room, surveying the damage and considering which sword he'd go postal with, when a very buzzed Pam waved him over.

"Everyone," Pam announced. "This is my boyfriend, Eric. Eric," she waved around at the group gathered. "This is everyone."

Eric seriously considered burning about 85% of the pages from Pam's address book as he sighed heavily and retreated to his bedroom. He flipped open his Mac laptop, perching on his massive California King, and logged in to the Shreveport Community College intranet. Pointing Firefox to the student directory, he typed in his search, and soon found himself staring at a picture and contact information for the buxom blond human who plagued his thoughts. It wasn't the most flattering photo ever taken of Sookie--she appeared to be about half a second away from letting out a massive sneeze--but she was still attractive by any standards. He wished the screen had a scratch and sniff feature. Eric picked up his iPhone and dialed her number, adjusting himself as the phone rang and rang.

Over at the Stackhouse residence, Mitchell and Adele were sound asleep in Sookie's bed when her phone began screeching with the Color Me Badd, 'I Wanna Sex You Up' ringtone. Eric gave up on getting a response just as Mitchell leaned over and picked up the phone - just in time to hear Eric mutter "mother fanger" and hang up.

"Who was that, hon?" Adele asked her husband.

"I think it was the Blood Bank," answered Mitchell, not wanting to alarm his wife.

"The Blood Bank doesn't call at this hour!"

Only among people over the age of 70 would 8:30 pm be considered an 'obscene' time of night, but Adele and Mitchell had embraced their golden years with aplomb.

Out in Eric's front yard, Bill, Andy and Bud had just arrived in their Geek Squad vehicle (Bud had just gotten a promotion at Best Buy,) ready for their first experience with a real college bash. A few of the guests scattered on the lawn wondered what kind of party dilemma required emergency tech support, their minds racing with titillating possibilities.

Pausing in front of the door, Bill examined his two friends, noticing they'd attached mining lamps to their Devo hats, and rolled his eyes. "Take that shit off."

"Bill, this is a frat party. Aren't we gonna get killed if we go in there?" Andy asked.

Bill scoffed, "We've got a case of True Blood and girl's underwear - we're golden!"

"What are you guys, rabbits? Be cool, honey-bunnies, and it'll be just fine. Now, don't embarrass me," Bill commanded, wishing he could glamour them into coolness. "Bud, fix your hair. Andy, close your fly."

Bill rang the doorbell and heard the scratching and barking of a dog. A moment later it swung open, a strange, shaggy man hanging from the top of it. He let out a drunken howl as he greeted the party's newest guests.

Bud and Andy backed up a bit, but Bill quickly grabbed them. "Don't be such wusses. It's a frat party on a full moon, of course it's going to be wild!"

The trio strode into the room with a thinly-veiled air of assumed suaveness, the two humans hoping they'd soon find some liquid courage to soothe their frazzled nerves. After two minutes of avoiding being beaten up or threatened, Bill grinned, "See? Nothing to worry about." And with that, he heard a monumental crash behind him.

Bill found himself looking up into the eyes of two of the town's most confusing beefcakes: Alcide Herveaux, known curiously as both a strong leader and for being chronically pussy-whipped; and John Quinn, mama's boy and vicious pro wrestler. There was also a fallen beer can tower on the table.

"Don't look at me, I'm just here for tech support," said Andy, making a quick get-away to another room.

"I'm here about a virus," added Bud, following his friend.

Bill was screwed and he knew it. He took a long, unnecessary sigh: apparently, girl's underpants were thin armor against the wrath of the muscle-bound.

Up in his room, Eric had just re-dialed the Stackhouse home when he heard his drunken girlfriend calling him from down the hallway. Eric hung up, getting up to shut his door as Pam appeared.

"Don't you want to eat tonight, you big bad Viking? You always love to eat me," she said, sliding down the wall by his door, her drunken legs giving out.

The smell coming from Pam nearly knocked him over: it was an odd combination of mint, hops, and... was that moonshine? "I want some real sustenance," Eric growled, slamming the door shut.

Pam was too inebriated to notice her hair had been trapped inside the door until she tried to crawl away. "Eric," she whined, knocking weakly at the door.

Getting no response, she called out weakly to her friends down the hall. An equally drunk Felicia and Indira stumbled down the hallway to her. "What's the matter, Pamikins?" Indira slurred.

Pam groaned, pointing to her hair, and the other two girls snorted with laughter. "Come on, you guys, help me. I'm your sorority president."

"Right now, you're the president of the hair club for doors," Felicia giggled.

"Okay, okay," Indira grinned, digging through her purse and producing a nail file (hey, they must be sharp enough if they don't let you take them on a plane.) "Promise you won't get mad?"

"I promise," Pam said with a hazy smile, totally oblivious.

As Indira subjected Pam to the back-of-the-head version of Operation Britney, Eric once again tried to reach Sookie on the phone.

After the first two crank calls, Mitchell was ready, snatching up the phone. "Hello?"

Eric was confused for a moment by the voice on the other end, staring at the phone number on the screen to be sure he dialed right. "Yes, hello," he finally said.

"Are you the young man who's been calling here and hanging up all night?" Mitchell immediately cut him off and asked in an aggressive tone.

"We don't want to donate blood," Adele added sleepily.

"No, sir," Eric replied, though it galled him to be this polite. "I'm calling looking for a classmate of mine, Sookie Stackhouse. If she is there, may I please converse with her briefly?"

"He wants Sookie," Mitchell confided to Adele in a hushed tone.

"She doesn't want to donate blood, either," Adele responded protectively.

Eric, who could of course hear the grandparents' conversation, was beyond frustrated at this point. These people were worse than his friend Bubba, who had the voice of an angel and a knack for walking in on situations that were just about to get good. "If they weren't Sookie's family, I'd have to drain these cockblockers," Eric muttered quietly. What he hadn't counted on was the fact that the old man had surprisingly keen hearing.

"Adele... he's not from the Blood Bank. I think he wants a blowjob."

"Give me that," Adele said, grabbing the phone. "Listen to me, you little pervert. Our granddaughter is not available, and even if she were, she'd have more sense than to involve herself with a rude boy like you!" With that, Adele slammed the phone down. "Sookie is so lucky to have us."

"Even if she still doesn't appreciate us," Mitchell added.

*~*~*

Later that night, Eric roamed his house, surveying the copious amount of damage with disgust. It looked as though there had been some sort of epic battle between the crews of Girls Gone Wild and MTV's Spring break. Why the hell was there coconut suntan oil on his end table?

He flopped on his couch, plucking a half-empty bottle of True Blood from the coffee table. He thought everyone had left, so immediately dropped his fangs when he noticed an eyeball blinking back at him under the empty spot on the glass table. The tellingly brooding eye pleaded for help, and clearing the rest of the detritus unceremoniously, Eric stared at his fellow vampire.

Bill pulled himself out of his former coffee table coffin, relieved.

"Why didn't you just get out yourself?" Eric asked. "Seriously, Bill. You do realize you're a vampire, right?"

"They trapped me with silver bullets," Bill said, still recovering from his terror.

"Bill," Eric returned reproachfully. "Those were Coors Light cans. They have absolutely zero silver content. This is American beer, for fuck's sake."

Bill pulled a piece of fabric from his pocket, wiping the imaginary sweat from his brow. Eric cocked a brow at the odd, lacy... handkerchief?

"Bill," Eric began, sniffing the air. "Why do you have a sky-blue, lace hanky that smells like..." he sniffed again, his eyes widening.

The Geek, having calmed down a bit, looked at the piece of fabric in his hand with a grin. "Oh, that." He spread out the thong, showing it off triumphantly. "It's Sookie's."

"Did you glamour her out of them, or did you actually..." Eric gestured suggestively.

"Glamour doesn't seem to work on her," Bill said, omitting the fact that he was a glamour virgin. "She just gave them to me to be nice. We had a bonding moment in auto shop, and she helped a brother out. Besides," he added, "half that time, we were talking about you. She's really into you, I swear."

"You better not be dicking me around," Eric said, leaning into the fledgling with a warning glare.

Bill, feeling the elder's tweaks of power, cowered. "I know what happens if I dick with you, man. In the bad sense, that is." There was one sense of gracious plenty trouble Bill didn't think he'd mind being in, but thought better of mentioning it. "I feel compelled to say, however, that if you're just looking for a feed, I'll call my buddy Felipe to kick your ass."

Eric smirked, amused by the notion, but appreciative of the young vampire's protective nature. "If all I wanted was a feed and a fuck, Pam's passed out in my bed upstairs. I could make her yield like mini Cooper versus a Mack truck, but maybe I'm sick of that. She's completely insensitive. I mean, look at this place," he said, pointing to the wasteland of his house.

"Pam's in your bed right now?" Bill said thoughtfully, feeling a certain tightness in his Dillard's gear. "Then what the hell are you waiting for?" Bill gaped, confused why any vampire wouldn't take advantage of that.

"I've been alive for a thousand years, Compton," Eric pointed out. "Maybe I'm ready to move on. Maybe I don't want a pet anymore. Maybe I want... a partner."

Bill had no idea what Eric was talking about, but he nodded encouragingly.

"I'm just tired of the fangbanging scene, Bill. I want a real relationship, maybe even a blood bond. The sex has to be good, of course, but I can turn anyone into Dr. Ruth in a matter of weeks. Maybe sometimes, I want to just lie down with someone I love in front of the fireplace while we talk about our scars and shit."

"It takes a lot of balls to admit that, Eric. I bet a lot of vampires feel that way," Bill said, not really believing it.

"You think?" Eric asked.

"I'm a geek," Bill shot back. "I do more thinking than anything else."

"Tell you what, Compton. Hand over the thong, and I'll let you borrow Pam for tonight."

"Didn't you say she's passed out?"

"Like she gives a shit. Go ahead, really. I'll even let you borrow my room, since the sun is only a few hours away."

Bill wondered why he'd need more than fifteen minutes, but happily agreed and tossed over the thong. He zipped up the stairs with his vampire speed, ready to claim his first real meal!

Eric smirked at the younger vampire and, after snacking on a drunk, shaggy looking man he found in his driveway, retired to the basement, plotting his own mission: Operation Seduce Sookie Stackhouse.

*~*~*

The entire Stackhouse family slept late into the afternoon the next day to be ready for the late night wedding (apparently the Norrises had some vampire... associates.) By 5pm the residence was a-bustle with activity as the family prepared to attend their beloved Jason's wedding, with one notable exception.

"Yes, Lam Dog Sam," Grandpa Mitchell said into the phone, the local Sheriff on the other end. "What was he wearing? Let's see... he had on a pair of overalls... *pause* No, no shirt... *pause* No, he's not a member of Dexy's Midnight Runners, whoever they are... *pause* No! He's not a _Deliverance_ variety redneck, either. He mows the lawn and plays musical instruments... *pause* No, no, I don't think banjo is one of them."

Sookie headed up the stairs after spending the night on the couch, and was met on her way to her room by Corbett.

"Sookie," her Dad said in an apologetic tone, "I feel like such a jerk. We forgot your birthday."

Sookie smiled, "It's okay, Dad. I'm not that upset about it anymore."

"Your brother's wedding has turned this house inside out. I'm really sorry, kiddo."

Sookie hugged her father, feeling mildly better, and headed into her room. She flopped on her bed, picking up the phone to call Amelia.

"Hey, Sook," Amelia answered, knowing who was on the other end when the 'Oops, I Did It Again' ringtone sounded.

"Hey. I'm just getting ready for this wedding. Ugh, you should see this horrid bridesmaid dress I have to wear," Sookie groaned, looking at the tight-bodiced dress with flared prairie skirt hanging on her closet door. A pair of bright red cowboy boots sat on the floor below. "At least I'm all set if we ever go to a hoedown," she snorted.

"Oh shit, speaking of dances..." Amelia hesitated.

"What?"

Amelia took a deep breath, "My little brother paid twenty bucks at the dance last night to see your underwear."

Sookie's horrified scream echoed through the house just as Mitchell was hanging up with the police officer. "Damn kids and their rock and roll," he grumbled to Henry.

"Unfortunately, it's here to stay," Henry replied. "Although, I must say I'm rather fond of that Elvis."

"He's still alive, you know," Ethel said.

"No!" Mitchell gasped incredulously.

Ethel nodded, "Yes! I actually spotted him at the animal shelter! Sweet boy was rescuing a bunch of cats."

*~*~*

An hour later the family was piling into the Hummer stretch limo they'd rented, ready to leave for the church. As they packed themselves in like passengers on a Japanese subway, they caught a whiff of something decidedly pungent... it smelled like stale beer and wet... Dog? Indeed, Lam Dog Sam had wrapped himself around a tree almost amorously, and had pieces of bark implanted deep in his cheek.

Grandpa Mitchell, after a moment of being impressed that anyone could pass out against a tree while standing up, noticed that while Dog had parked himself on the tree, one other item was conspicuously not parked. He strode over purposefully, whistling to get the exchange student's attention. "Dog," he intoned ominously, "Where is my Cadillac?"

"Caddy Shack," replied Dog, still thoroughly plied with alcohol.

"Dog, answer me: where is my Cadillac?"

"Gotta yak," giggled the shaggy one.

"Dog!"

"Fond du Lac."

"You're saying my vehicle is in Wisconsin, Dog?"

"Caddy went skinny dipping," laughed Dog, and that was about all Mitchell could get out of him. Dog promptly passed out, face down in the dirt.

Determined not to waste the five grand he'd spent on this wedding, Corbett quickly rushed everyone back into the limo, and they sped off to the church.

As the ushers saw the wedding guests to their seats, one couldn't help but notice the difference between the bride's side and the groom's side of the pews. On the groom's side were a number of proper Southern families, genteel members of groups like the Descendants of the Glorious Dead. On the bride's side were a number of people who looked as though they used their broken televisions as stands for their working televisions, and who thought toothbrushes were novelty items.

Once this motley congregation was settled, the town drunk, Jane Bodehouse, began displaying her talents with the organ. As the crowd hushed, anticipating the appearance of the bride, the guests became aware of a commotion in the preparation room. As the commotion continued, Sookie scurried down the aisle to take her place. She noticed Jason's best man, Dove Beck, conspicuously adjusting himself as Jane broke into 'Here Comes the Bride.'

Crystal began clomping out while Calvin desperately tried to hold her back and get her a little more pulled together, but his efforts were hampered by the splint that immobilized his recently broken hand. The guests couldn't help but notice that Crystal seemed a little... off. She had adopted a wide stance that would put Larry Craig to shame, and she was walking like the love child of Clint Eastwood and Annie Oakley.

"Crystal, pull yourself together!" hissed Calvin.

"Calvin, everyone can HEAR you," spat Maryelizabeth furiously. "Do you really want everyone to know about her Brazilian wax disaster?"

Well, everyone knew now. Indeed, poor Crystal had been determined to pamper herself before the big day with a massage, mani, pedi, facial, and a professional wax job. Unfortunately, she discovered that she was allergic to the wax preparation, which made walking uncomfortable, to say the least. With the aid of modern pharmaceuticals, she'd decided she'd just make the best of the situation.

"I know what you're thinking!" Crystal shouted as she John Wayned her way down the aisle. "Did she take three muscle relaxants, or did she take four? Well, to tell you the truth, in the hubbub, I kind of lost track myself!"

The crowd laughed, and Jason grinned broadly as his bride-to-be approached to exchange vows with him.

"That's my Crystal!" he beamed, holding out his hand proudly.

"Do you feel lucky, punk?" she asked him. And apparently, he did.

After the ceremony, Jason and Crystal made their way through the cheering crowd outside. The groom's side threw the traditional rice, while the bride's shot off six-shooters.

Eric, who'd set out the moment the sun went down to track Sookie (with the aid of her lusciously scented panties,) honed in on the noise which was coming from the same direction. Reaching the church, he zipped his red Corvette into a parallel parking space Blues Brothers style. Sookie's scent was close, and he was keyed up, ready to claim his din... er, prize.

As the cars began peeling away from the church, Sookie, who'd smartly stayed inside the vestibule to avoid stray bullets, stared in awe as she spotted the blond Viking of her dreams, leaning against the Corvette. Eric crooked a finger toward her, waggling his eyebrows.

"Me?" Sookie mouthed incredulously.

Eric smirked, "Oh yes, lover. You."

In a perfect Scarlett moment, Sookie promptly fainted. Luckily for her, Eric's vampire speed allowed for him to catch her, sweeping her up Rhett style.

Sookie's father shot the Viking a knowing look as Eric nodded in his direction. The reception was about to have one fewer guest.

*~*~*

"Thanks for getting my undies back," Sookie said, smiling at Eric as they sat, cross-legged, on top of his dining room table.

"Thanks for coming over," Eric returned.

"Thanks for coming to get me," Sookie blushed.

Eric looked down at the cake sitting between them, "Happy Birthday, Sookie."

Sookie dipped her finger into the frosting, moaning softly as she licked it from her finger. "How did you know what flavor I liked?"

"I took a guess that you'd be a lemon girl," Eric smoldered.

"I do love a good lemon."

Eric's fangs ran down a little. "Make a wish," he said, gesturing to the lone birthday candle.

Sookie paused for a moment, pondering, then bit shyly at her lower lip. "Do you... have a nice shower?"

Eric grinned, "Oh, yes."

A huge smile spread across Sookie's face... and she blew out the candle.

All her wishes came true.

**The End.**

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A/N: This ficlet was written as part of the Support Stacie auction, in which fanfic authors offered stories written to the winning bidder's personal specifications. The auction raised over $25,000 in total to help support a fellow author battling cancer. To learn more about this cause and about future auctions, please visit:

supportstacie (DOT) net

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from the Southern Vampire Mysteries – they belong solely to Charlaine Harris. No infringement is intended.


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